"Saix, your mission is to go to the Underworld," Xemnas started to prompt the hawk-eyed member of Organization XIII. "Are you paying attention?" Saix's eyes snapped back into focus and he nodded. Xemnas slightly raised one eyebrow, but otherwise ignored Saix zoning out. "Good. As I was saying, you are to go to the Underworld and get information on the recent Hydra attacks. As you know, Hades is behind these assaults, but we need to stop them. Can you handle it?"
"You think I can't?" Saix growled.
"No..." Xemnas said.
"Then don't ask." Saix responded rudely. He teleported back to his room, where he fell back onto his bed, legs spread wide and hands behind his head, his hair going in every direction.
His room supported dark colors, and had a strange gloom about it. With black covering the walls, ceiling, and even carpet, it seemed as if the room was very small. But it had room to fit a very large bed, a desk sporting the latest in computer software, a small, overfilled bookshelf, a messy wardrobe, and a side table next to his bed with a dim lamp sitting comfortably on the top, and still had room to lay down on the floor, spread wide, without touching anything.
Saix's favorite part of the room, however, was the large sit-in window that was positioned perpendicular to his bed. The window had a clar, centered shot of the moon each night. Saix liked to sit there, and think. But tonight, he was much to tiered to think much of anything.
"Why me?" Was a frequent question that stung his mind more often then not, teasing him and taunting him to do something stupid.
"Where is my memory?", The question that haunted him every night, fluttered though his head once again, brutally ripping apart his conscious.
When he wasn't conscious, his dreams were filled with images from his past. The past that he no longer held onto: no longer had. When he woke up from these persisting dreams, however, his visions seemed misplaced and a blur of color and shape. He could find no information out of them after that.
This is why he despised sleeping. His past came to him every night, in his dreams, right in front of him, touching him, practically suffocating him. But when he awakens from this enlightenment, he is once again in the dark corner of knowledge.
Recently, however, he has been remembering little bits and pieces of his dreams. So far he had gathered that he was in constant contact with a girl – woman? – he couldn't tell. But she had a bright smile and a warm, comforting touch.
And he remembered blood. A lot of blood. Covering the female and splattered on all surrounding surfaces, including himself.
He shivered at the thought. It was a week ago that he had redeemed this much information, and he hadn't slept since. It wasn't the blood that made him feel so uneasy. He had seen more blood than that, even in one time, many missions prior to that day. It was that he knew that the girl had some special meaning to him. He couldn't place the emotion – it was one he hadn't come to face with since his memories were shut away to the depths of his subconscious. It bothered him to no end, and made him feel and think things he had never considered before.
It scared him.
Saix rolled to one side in distress. "Can you handle it?" Xemnas's words echoed through his crowded mind. Xemnas, like the others, had sensed this change in Saix last week.
As much as he tried to hide the obvious disturbance in his mind, the others were quick to catch on, much to Saix's dismay. First Xemnas and Xaldin, then Zexion, and Vexen, and the others followed shortly as they began to talk with one another.
No one said anything directly to him on the subject, but he knew that they had figured out that something was wrong. By the way they looked at him, and the way they were extra careful around him. Even more careful than normal. The way that they implied that he was handicapped in some way, like what Xemnas said. "Can you handle it?"
And he wanted to see her again, so very badly. The image from his week-old dream was growing faint. Her smile was slipping through his fingers. He wanted her smile back, wanted to once again feel her body against his...
But he was afraid, too.
He was afraid of the blood. Her blood. He was afraid of seeing her as he did the last time. He was afraid of being afraid. But he longed for her face, desperate to hear and remember her voice, even just once.
Please. He begged. Saix closed his eyes and tried to drift to sleep. He was exhausted, and wanted nothing to do with the deep ponderings anymore. He quickly faded into the half-sleep state, thinking about nothing in particular anymore, when
"Saix...!" The voice echoed through the room very quietly. Saix's eyes shot open and he looked around, his eyes narrowed. What did he just hear? The voice... it belonged to the girl. He knew. He didn't know how he knew, but he did.
How did he hear her? Where was she? Was it his imagination? Did he dream it? Was his mind playing tricks on his sleep deprived mind?
"Saix...!" The voice came again.
"Where are you?" Saix whispered. He sat up, and scanned the room for any signs of movement, or life in general. Nothing.
"Always... in your heart... with you..." The voice sounded soft and gentle; barely there.
"What heart?" Saix wanted to say. But he didn't. He wanted to stop the voice, wanted to never hear it again. It was crushing him, pounding him into the ground, grinding him to dust. But at the same time, he wanted to hear nothing else, wanted it to speak again, wanted not to miss it. Even though Saix did not voice the question, but the girl answered.
"The heart... here..." Saix felt a little bit of pressure on his chest, where his heart should be, if he was a Somebody. He looked down, and saw faint hands pressing there. With the hands were arms that wrapped around him.
Saix took a sharp intake of air, and his eyes widened. He turns his head slowly, thinking it was a hallucination. But the girl was there, behind him, embracing him. Her smile was many times more radiant than what he remembered, and it made him feel so... happy. But sad, too.
He could see through her, though. She wasn't entirely there. A ghost, or a mirage. But he didn't remember what she looked like, and now she was right there in front of his eyes.
"Just promise me this, that you are real," She started.
"That you are something I can see, something I can feel," Saix finished the third and fourth line to their shared poem. The one she wrote for him.
"I melt in your soft touch, I evaporate in your kiss," she continued.
"I shouldn't doubt, just do, This isn't something to miss," Saix finished the verse.
"The dark of the moon, the slave to stars, the engulfing sun, the hidden scars," They recited together.
"You can show me the side, that's been locked up tight, because I love you -" Saix's voice broke at the words, and his throat refused to continue. The girl went on, and finished the poem;
"And I will bring you to Light. From your darkest night, when you're blinded from sight, when you've fallen I'll fight, no need to have fright, for you are safe to-night, my love." She kissed him ever so lightly, and disappeared like light fading from the sun that had just dipped below the horizon in the most exotic sunset.
For the first time since she died, he wanted to cry. For the first time since she died, he wanted to kill himself.
Eventually, he fell asleep. For another first time since she died, he did not dream. He simply slept.
In the morning, he awoke feeling a mix of emotions, none making any sense to him, for he did not remember the strange even that took place the previous night, or of any of the terrible dreams that tormented him of his past.
For the first time since she died, he was at peace. Even if that peace ment loosing what was most precious to him.